FemSlash February - The Witch and the Warden
by Thesegoto11
Summary: FemSlash February is the perfect reason to take the time to write again. Here's a quickly written and unrevised short entry, featuring a young grey warden and the witch of the wilds.


Aerin shifted atop her bedroll, trying to avoid a damned rock that seemed to follow her hip bone no matter where she moved. A string of expletives fell from her full mouth as she stood and kicked at the pile of hides. She was bone weary, and just wanted some blasted sleep. Was that too much to ask?

Frustrated and exhausted, the grey warden shoved her tent flap open and stormed out, only to stop short as she caught sight of the witch of the wilds tending her small fire away from the main camp, the woman's dark thick tresses falling down over her delicate cheekbones. Aerin's breath caught in her chest, as it always did when she saw Morrigan. It had been that way since that very first time she'd encountered the dark haired woman in the Korcari Wilds what seemed so long ago.

Aerin's shoulders sagged slightly, as Morrigan ignored her yet again. The young noble would have given all of her lands and her title for just one favorable look from the jet haired beauty. With a soft sigh, she instead headed towards the fire pit set in the middle of the small band's tents.

OoOoO

Morrigan couldn't stop one corner of her mouth from climbing slightly upwards at the sound of cursing coming from the grey warden's tent. She was consistently impressed with the creativity Aerin showcased when it came to profanity. And the incongruity between her crude language and her noble upbringing was a constant source of delight to the witch.

To hide her smile, Morrigan bent to poke at her fire, allowing her hair to fall over her face. It also served to shield her golden eyes as she stole a look at the warden exploding out of her tent. She was barely aware of the way her heart rate increased ever so slightly as she took a long look at Aerin. The tall woman's light brown hair was bluntly cut at her shoulders, likely by Aerin herself using her sword. Her deeply set blue eyes were dark, the irritation blazing in them plain to all. Her too-long arms were well muscled, although they seemed to hang a little more heavily than usual from her broad shoulders.

Morrigan knew that Aerin was looking her direction. Waiting for some acknowledgment. Morrigan ached to give it to her. But no. That was not why she was a member of this party. She could not afford to be distracted from her objective. And yet her heart inexplicably reached towards this woman.

Shaking her head, she stabbed at the fire too forcefully and found herself jumping backwards to avoid the resulting shower of sparks. She may have muttered a profane word or two of her own.

OoOoO

The grey warden took a small flask out from the pouch hanging from the belt holding up her soft leather trousers. She took a long pull off of it, savoring the heat of the Antivan brandy as it rolled across her tongue and down her throat. Why couldn't she just sleep? Leaning back against the worn tree stump behind her, she closed her eyes, trying to unclench the muscles working at her jaw. The day had been one of the most difficult since she'd taken on the grey warden mantle. So much death at her hands. She'd spent most of the evening cleaning the blood off her sword, off her armor. Scrubbing and oiling until every last drop was eradicated. The memories would not be as easily banished.

Aerin supposed that being unsettled by all the killing was probably a good thing. She knew it was necessary. She knew it was the only way. But it still took its toll.

Another swallow.

Her gaze passed between two tents towards Morrigan's solitary camp. The witch was reading that book that Aerin had retrieved from Flemeth's shack, her brow furrowed. Aerin's lips curved slightly as she thought of soothing away the tension with a kiss. Why wouldn't Morrigan give her a chance? They'd had pleasant conversations during their travels. She'd done anything Morrigan asked of her. And yet Morrigan would retreat to her own camp each night, keeping a distance between them.

Aerin looked at the flask in her hand. She wasn't going to find the answer in the brandy tonight. But maybe she could get the answer from Morrigan herself. Rising to her feet, she took a determined step towards the witch's campfire.

OoOoO

Morrigan absentmindedly brushed the hair from her eyes as she re-read the same passage for the third time. She was finding it difficult to accept what she was reading, but she knew it had to be true. And the truth of it was a punch to her gut.

Lost in her thoughts, Morrigan failed to notice Aerin standing on the other side of her small fire until she heard a small cough. The warden stood with her legs slightly apart, in what might have seemed to be a casual stance if one did not look too closely at the knotted fists at her side. The dark haired woman was taken aback; the noble had never ventured into her camp before.

"Warden?" Morrigan cursed herself at the small crack in her voice.

The flames only amplified the distance between them. Morrigan thought that was probably best for the moment. The way in which the fire emphasized Aerin's cheekbones was surprisingly alluring.

"Morrigan. I, um - " Panic flared in Aerin's eyes. She turned away. And Morrigan suddenly wanted nothing more than for her to stay.

"Warden… Aerin. Please. Stay." The witch's voice trailed off so as to be nearly inaudible. But apparently it was loud enough, because the noble stopped. Morrigan rose, taking a step towards her.

OoOoO

It was the "please" that caught her attention most of all. Morrigan had said please. She had thought maybe hearing her name in Morrigan's rich tones would be irresistible. But instead it was that one simple word. Please. Aerin froze where she was, watching in stunned silence as the raven haired beauty approached her.

"I've noticed how you look at me." Morrigan was now just a step away, nearly within reach of Aerin's long arms.

"How do I look at you?" The noble was having a difficult time grasping that this conversation was actually taking place, and didn't want to misunderstand anything.

The witch paused, looking at Aerin with a tilted head, golden eyes searching her own. "With desire."

Aerin took a small step forward. "Yes. But there is more than that." Another small step. With her slight height advantage, the warden looked down into Morrigan's eyes. "Much more than that." Without thought, she brought her hand up to trail a finger along the witch's jaw, lifting her chin slightly.

Leaning in, her lips nearly touching Morrigan's, Aerin breathed, "You have stolen my heart."

Morrigan closed the space between them, completing the kiss, hands reaching up to allow fingers to tangle in Aerin's mussed tresses. "Then 'tis only fair that I should give you mine."


End file.
